I have been going back to the public schools for the rest of it ever since. I went from school straight into the army. War seemed so calm and tranquil and peaceful after my stormy school days. It was such a relief to go from Corporal Punishment to Corporal Atkins. Every teacher who had a part in directing my education ought to have a war pension from the government. I think a dollar a minute would be about right. My first teacher, Ephraim Hinman, is now living here in Los Angeles. He is a Methodist, and that great church ought to make a bishop of him, for his grandly successful work among the heathen. I don't see why they haven't done so. Perhaps they found out that I was one of his converts. I was a maverick when I started to school, all right, but successive dynasties of instructors put the proper brand all over me, before I was finally broken to the yoke and plow. I wasn't professedly a believer in corporal punishment. But I was better than most professors and nominal believers. I practiced the doctrine right along. At least, I lived up to it. It did me good and does me good unto this day. It makes a great many things beautifully clear to me. "Now no chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous," says the great Apostle, "but grievous." I don't need any commentary on that passage. I am a seminary exegete on that part of the epistle. But I can truly say that all my chastisements at school are at this day among my most joyous memories. I laugh every time I think of one. Not so much about the whipping, as over the recollection of the jolly good old time I had earning it. I was recklessly happy as a man who is acquiring the gout for his grandsons. But all that went in the curriculum. My school days were happy, seriously speaking. I was a happy boy. All the year round I was happy. And in the loyal, tender, loving niches of my heart I have builded the fairest shrines my affection can fashion, wherein I have placed the images of the saints who were my school teachers. Some of them are living; some are dead; the living are all old and gray. But there, where I alone can see them, they are all living; they are all young, with the morning light of love and enthusiasm shining in their faces. Memory makes them beautiful, and the years cluster about their brows like stars. For their sakes you are all young and fair and good, and with my own dear teachers standing in my thought for every one of you, I bid you welcome-welcome-welcome.

RESPONSE

W. T. HARRIS, WASHINGTON, D. C.

Mr. Burdette, Ladies and Gentlemen of Los Angeles:

I am requested by the President of the National Educational Association to return thanks for the words of cordial welcome to which we have just now listened. I desire to tell you how glad we are to come to California and to Los Angeles. We teachers of the East and the North and the South and of the Mountain States see a very great career for education in California.

perishable of fruits, all of which is managed so efficiently that cherries go in boxes for four thousand miles, into moist climates, and do not decay, but only dry up after weeks of storage; so these other important arts will arise here and be perfected by men and women who are now boys and girls attending your schools.

The education of the directive power for this great work in the world is progressing in your schools in its first beginnings. It will prevail more and more. We are glad to know the teachers who are to do the training. We thank you for your cordial welcome.

PRESIDENT'S ADDRESS

WHAT CAN THE SCHOOLS DO TO AID THE PEACE

MOVEMENT?

NATHAN C. SCHAEFFER, STATE SUPERINTENDENT OF PUBLIC INSTRUCTION,

PENNSYLVANIA

The greatest problem of the twentieth century is the boy-with one exception-the girl. As soon as the girl takes up the study of history, she begins to wish that she had been born a boy. Her textbook magnifies the achievements of men and devotes very little space to the deeds of women. Gradually she reaches the conviction that everything great and heroic belongs to the other sex, that life is not worth living unless one can attain military glory, and that her greatest misfortune is to have been born a girl.

The boy is apt to form similar ideals from the textbooks on history and the methods of teaching the subject. The names of admirals and generals, the battles they fought and the victories they won, the causes and the effects of the wars in which they were engaged, constitute a very large part of the material of instruction. The examination questions which are supposed to emphasize the most important portions of the school curriculum, bristle with wars and the things of war. The boy loves power and admires every exhibition of personal and national strength; he admires the heroes whose names are immortalized upon the pages of history; he gradually conceives the notion that the wearing of a uniform, the carrying of a sword or a gun, the shedding of blood, and the acquisition of military renown, are essential to a life worth living.

It seems to me that our textbooks, our examination, and our instruction should glorify the arts of peace above the art of war. In other words, history should be taught from a more rational point of view. Whilst it would be wrong to minimize the sacrifices and services of the army and the navy, it will nevertheless be wise to emphasize the victories of peace above the victories of war, and to teach history in such a way that the pupil will write the name of the poet, the orator, the artist, the inventor, the educator, the jurist, the statesman, the philanthropist in a place at least as conspicuous in the temple

like the Spanish-American war. In dealing with these two kinds of war it is well to point out both sides of the dispute and to show how war can be avoided by the peaceful method of arbitration. How well-posted we all are upon every war that our people have waged; how little we know of the two hundred and fifty international disputes which have been settled by the peaceful method of arbitration; and of the fourty-four treaties, some between leading nations, like England and France, for the settlement of their disputes in whole or in part by the use of arbitration. How frequently we discuss the Monroe Doctrine which has brought us again and again to the brink of war; how seldom we speak of the arrangement made during Monroe's administration for the limitation of armaments along our Canadian boundary—an arrangement that has secured peace between the United States and Great Britain in spite of all the acute disputes which have arisen since the War of 1812. How few people know the significance of The Hague Court, for whose sittings Andrew Carnegie is building a palace to cost a million and a half of dollars.

The teaching of history can be made to culminate in the proper observance of the eighteenth of May and of Washington's birthday. The teachers of France have resolved to observe these days by appropriate exercises, and the schools of America will do well to follow the example of the Third Republic. The publications of the American Peace Society furnish abundant material at small expense for the proper observance of the eighteenth of May—the day on which the delegates to the first Hague Conference assembled—a day which certainly marked an epoch in the world's history. In the not distant future this day will be as universally observed as Arbor Day and the festival days of the church year. Some of the colleges now observe Washington's birthday in such a way as to strengthen the sentiment for peace and justice in dealing with other nations. Several years ago at the Mohonk Lake Conference Chancellor McCracken pointed out that the most popular textbook on international law devotes more space to the conduct of nations in time of war than to the conduct of international affairs in time of peace, whilst not one page is devoted to the ways in which nations may avoid war. Since that meeting a movement for the study of international arbitration has been inaugurated in most of our colleges. Just as the light which first illumines the mountain tops gradually reaches the valleys, so the light which the higher institutions are now beginning to disseminate will gradually illumine the teaching of history in the lower grades of schools.

We hear much of the emancipation of the high school from the dominating influence of the college. In the direction of fraternities, festivities, athletics, and courses of study, there may be room for change, but I hope that at no distant day the kind of history which our colleges now teach and which emphasizes the movements for the uplifting of the masses will replace the drum and trumpet sort of history which eventuates in hatred of redcoats, distrust of other nations, and a species of patriotism that is the meanest of all the virtues.